


First time prompt response - Onslaught

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When trapped in a makeshift cave under a collapsed building, what else are three virgins to do?</p><p>Set on Cybertron a long while before the war.</p><p>Content advice: explicit sticky smut, threesome, het with implied femmeslash.</p><p>Decepticam AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First time prompt response - Onslaught

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a meme on LJ where people name a character and the writer produces a short fic about how they lost their virginity.
> 
> Greenlight is canon, but Cascade is an OC invented just for this.

They thought they were going to die.

Three new-builds, holed up in a cave made of twisted girders and cracked concrete: Onslaught, Greenlight and Cascade. The explosion had taken their commander, their barracks, their batchmates - an accident, people would later say, how very unfortunate. But for the three trapped beneath more rubble than any of them could shift, it was the end of the world.

They weren’t making it out of there, and they knew it. Dying by microns because someone, somewhere had fragged up.

It didn’t suit any of them.

Why sit there waiting for their cores to run down? Why stick to military protocol - no connection, no interface; Sigma knew the heliformers never did. And maybe what was good for the airframe would be good for the grounder.

And so Onslaught found himself on his knees in the dust, palms flat to the floor and thighs parted just enough for the exploration of a femme’s curious hand.

He vacillated between hope and fear, between the certainty that they'd be rescued and the bleak belief that no-one would bother. They were new, they were inexperienced. Why pay to rescue a mech and two femmes when you could build a dozen more at a fraction of the cost?

But regardless - or perhaps because of - the wavering fear, his frame slowly heated, his panels drew back, and he heard the first reverential gasp of arousal ever to reach his audials.

They were clumsy, the three of them, un-coordinated, their lack of experience feeding a dearth of confidence that turned into frustration. But there were moments of triumph, little shivers of pleasure, long drawn out sighs, and a steadily growing tension that couldn't fail to be released.

His first spike stung. They'd tried too soon. So they stopped and waited, doing other things they knew felt good until they were ready to try again. His lips around Greenlight’s finials, his fingertips teasing the rim of Cascade’s valve, their hands on his cannon barrels, their energy fields pulsing against his; it was more than enough to make the pain melt away.

The second time was better; Onslaught's valve cycled open, his own spike aching as Cascade eased herself slowly inside him. Greenlight reached under him, stroking in time with Cascade's shallow thrusts. He seized her by the hips and pulled her close, licking the seams of her thighs, running his glossa ever higher and flicking it against the virgin tightness of her valve.

Cascade increased her pace; a grunt of pleasure and a flash of warnings at his hips as she gripped too hard and the metal bent. But what did that matter when the flood of current from her overload made his sensors sing and his valve contract in a way so wonderful that he’d never before thought it was possible.

Then Cascade withdrew, and Greenlight pushed him onto his back. She straddled him, urgent, humming with charge and trembling from what combination of terror and excitement Onslaught could only guess. She lined up their hardware as Cascade stretched out beside them, but where Onslaught had thought she would force herself onto his spike, she went slowly, far gentler than she seemed to want. He gripped her aft, and she lay over his chassis, rocking her hips to slide him inside her in a way that made him able to forget, for a moment, everything except for the interface.

Thirty two joors they were trapped. They wore down their laser cores early on, exhausting their energy and their fluids, until finally they lay huddled on the gritty floor, an exhausted heap of parts touching purely for the comfort it gave.

When the rescue team broke through, Onslaught thought they were a hallucination, the first stage of energy starvation leading to his hopes becoming manifest in his visual field.

He didn’t stop thinking that until the heliformer arrived to winch him out.


End file.
